The Boy She Loved
by Kaira77
Summary: 'For God's sake, of all the people on the planet to fall in love with, I get Harry 'I have at least three near-death experiences a year' Potter…' - A fic following on from Deathly Hallows, starting at Harry and Ginny's reunion after The Battle of Hogwarts. Rated T for language and sexual themes. Please read and review!
1. Reunion

**Harry and Ginny's reunion after the battle from Ginny's point of view. Rated T for language and sexual themes. Please read and review! Enjoy :D I might turn this into a full length fic if people like it, but for now it's a oneshot.**

* * *

The world moved as if in slow motion; oddly sluggish and distorted. It was as if she was looking at everything through curved glass. Ginny moved towards the Gryffindor tower automatically, her body – seeming oddly limbless, felt as if it was hovering towards the comfort of the familiar common room. Grief stricken faces blurred in and out of focus as she staggered along, and the stairs wavered beneath her feet when she began to climb. She wasn't sure if this was the exhaustion, shock or the view of the world through a sheen of tears. Probably a combination of all three.

The Weasley's had stayed together in the Great Hall for a time after the end of the battle. She would never know how long… it had seemed like they had been standing there forever, huddled together and staring disbelievingly down at Fred. But when the first waves of reality had hit, everyone had started to split off. It was the sort of shock you needed to reflect on by yourself for a while before it became real. Ron and Hermione had left together, hand in hand, George had gone to be alone somewhere – the tears threatened to fall more insistently as she thought of him. George. Just George now...

To be honest with herself, she hadn't really felt truly sad yet. The guilt of that was awful… all she felt was a sort of still coldness, a detachment from everyone surrounding her. She couldn't realise the fact that Fred was dead. It was a thought that was almost laughable – and it wouldn't sink in. Everything that had happened tonight seemed almost dream like… her brother had been killed, and then – minutes afterwards, it had been announced that Harry was dead. Her Harry. Following that, he was alive again, and to top it all, she had missed death by inches so many times tonight that she had lost count. Ginny had experienced all her worst fears in a matter of minutes, and the trauma had made her oddly numb. Nothing was making sense in her head.

She plodded up more stairs; the Gryffindor common room seemed impossibly far away. Exhaustion and pain were making it hard to think, but Ginny knew she had to go there, if only to get to her bed. But it was more than that; Harry had disappeared soon after Voldemort had died, and she knew that he would be in the Gryffindor tower.

Ginny didn't want to talk to him about 'them' tonight, or listen to any romantic gushings, or even talk about the battle. She just wanted to know he was alright. She couldn't accept that he was alive and here until she had seen him, safe and protected.

Finally, the portrait of The Fat Lady swam blurrily into her vision. The woman didn't ask her for the password, just swung forward wordlessly and admitted her. Ginny clambered through as if in a trance. The common room had a few people sat around it, but she said nothing to any of them. She _needed_ to see Harry, and it wasn't just about reassurance anymore. Nothing was going to keep her from him now; the only barrier there had ever been between them was gone. Dead. And she knew, as she had known since the age of eleven, that Harry was _it_ for her. She'd be damned if she was going to wait around until he was 'feeling better', or had time to 'process'. No. Ginny had been mindful of Harry's privacy ever since she had known him. Although she was an expert at reading him, she had been forever overlooked. It had always been left to Ron and Hermione, or her mum, or Sirius to look after him, and she had often felt like she was being shooed away. No. She was staking her claim tonight. _She _would be the one who would weather this storm with him, and she wouldn't let him or anybody else push her away. Harry had lost almost everyone he had ever cared about – and unsurprisingly, this had given him issues with leaning on people. Well, she wasn't going to let that slide anymore.

Ginny stood on the threshold of the boys' dormitory, seeing all the beds except Harry's empty. Harry lay there, fully clothed, filthy, still wearing his glasses, and absolutely fast asleep. She paced over to him silently, subconsciously holding her breath, and looked down on him. He looked awful. He looked skinnier than she had ever seen him, he was gaunt and had large dark rings under his eyes. His clothes were dirty, ripped and blood-stained, his hair a long, tangled mess. She could see a partially healed welt surrounding his neck, as if in the position of a necklace. He looked horrific, but he was there. Unmistakably alive and _there_. So close she could touch him. She tentatively reached her hand towards him and brushed some of the hair out of his face with a feather light touch. Ginny jerked her hand back on contact, shocked to have actually felt him. She had almost expected him to evaporate like a dream as her fingers approached his face.

He was _here_. It had been almost a year since she had been on her own in a room with him, and she had thought she never would be again, but for the whole year she had gritted her teeth and refused to dwell on the matter. The world was at war, her family were heavily involved, and the love of her life was responsible for the fate of them all. She had refused to be Harry Potter's weepy ex. Ginny was more than that, and she had wanted to do her bit. _She_ had started the resistance movement at Hogwarts, and thrown all her efforts into it; it was both a passion and a distraction.

Ginny hadn't realised how much of an emotional dam she had built over the past year, until it broke.

The thick, strong wall of emotion hit her so hard it almost winded her. She felt everything. Fred's death, Harry's death, Harry alive, Tonks gone, Bellatrix's attack, Voldemort gone, her family torn apart. And the war, the anger, the bitterness, the worry; every emotion she had refused to let dominate her all year cascaded over her in an overwhelming deluge. She sat on the edge of Harry's bed, struggling to draw breath, the tears finally falling, as wave after wave of feeling hit her.

Harry didn't wake; she supposed his exhaustion must be so intense that he could sleep for a week, but he stirred in response to her sobs.

'Ginny…' he mumbled in his sleep. That stilled her. Harry lay quiet again, his breathing returning to the slow, heavy rhythm of someone deeply asleep. Ginny bit her lip, feeling somehow whole and empty at the same time. It was all too much, the grief, the victory – how was someone supposed to process all this at once? She couldn't. All she knew was that she wanted it to stop. She wanted to get away from it all, just be out of her head, just a few more hours of not feeling like this.

Ginny looked at Harry again. He had probably gone through this exact same thing, and he had found the answer. Sleep.

Without even thinking about it, she clambered onto the bed and crawled up to Harry, who was lying on his side. She carefully took off his glasses and curled into him, her back pressing against his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if instinctively, Harry's arm moved to clasp her securely around the waist. Ginny felt his warmth, and his steady breaths on the back of her neck. _He's alive_, she told herself again, _that's all you need to think about tonight. He's alive._ She blocked out everything else; she could deal with that later. Right now, all she wanted was to lie here in his arms, and sleep.

* * *

Ginny awoke groggily, with an immense amount of effort. It felt more like being dragged out of a vat of thick, black treacle rather than waking up. Sleep had such a firm grip on her that it took many failed attempts to actually reach true consciousness. There was a lot of dipping between deep and shallow blackness, then being vaguely aware of a stark brightness. When she finally did manage to reach the fluttering eyelids stage, she was dragged insistently back down to slumber again by the black tendrils of sleep. She was aware of desperately wanting to wake up, but also being scared of what awaited her when she did. The world of consciousness is often far more wonderful and terrifying than any dream or nightmare – and she knew she was waking to both.

Eventually, she opened her eyes and took in the world around her. Harry was still wrapped around her securely, in exactly the same position they had been in last night. Bright summer sunshine shone through the window next to Harry's bed, making her squint. She didn't know how long they had been sleeping. It could have been a few hours, a whole day, perhaps a week. She had lost all concept of time. The room was still empty except for their presence, which struck her as odd. Of course, Ron would be wherever Hermione was, so maybe they had thought it might be a bit odd to join Ginny and Harry in the dorm. Perhaps Neville had looked in, but decided to give the pair some privacy. Ginny didn't feel in the least bit guilty about this. She knew when they left this room Harry was going to be subjected to press conferences and idolisation by the community at large, and general fussing over and smothering by those who cared about him. However, she knew their friends were tactful enough to leave them alone until they were ready. Merlin knew they both deserved and _needed_ it.

Everything from yesterday came back to her in a rush, and threatened to knock her into hysterics – but she pushed it away. She had weeks ahead of her to be sad, and she would be… when she was ready to deal with it all. But right now, in this room, it was all about Harry and her. She had been longing for this for months and months, and she would _not_ spend it weeping in his arms… not yet, anyway.

Harry's breathing was shallow next to her; she knew he was only lightly sleeping. Soon, he would be awake. Her heart stopped. Soon, they would both be awake and alone. This had been all Ginny had ever hoped for since the start of the war… and so much longer.

She flipped over to her other side, so she was almost nose-to-nose with him. She smiled at his grimy, sleeping face. His wild hair was full of bits of leaf litter and twig, not to mention dried blood. _Oh Harry,_ she thought – almost rolling her eyes, _I think I've seen you covered in blood and dirt more often than I've seen you clean._ She giggled. It wasn't funny really, but somehow the fact he had survived so much seemed utterly ridiculous. Against the odds. Impossible. Yet, here he was. He'd made it. And now, she would hopefully never see him in such a state again – except, of course, when he sustained stupid quidditch injuries. She giggled again, a big, bright genuine smile on her face. It felt strange, but so right, on her lips.

Her giggling had roused Harry, who's eyes opened slowly and blearily to look at her. To her shock, the giggle caught in her throat and the smile died on her lips; she felt overcome with… rage.

Harry's look of confusion at seeing her in his bed went to a smile and then back again so quickly it would have been amusing… had she not been so angry. Ginny knew he had registered her fury, because there was a little flicker of apprehension in his eyes.

She wasn't even sure if her brain had caught up with her heart as to the reason why she was angry, before she was on top of him and swatting every inch of him she could reach.

'Ow… OW! Ginny! What the…. Hey!' Said Harry in consternation.

'You BASTARD, Harry Potter!' she said, between thwacks, 'Fricking taking yourself off to the forest and sacrificing yourself! You absolute PRAT!'

'I had to… OW… I had to, Gin! Get off!'

'Didn't even have time for a sodding goodbye, did you, oh mighty 'chosen one'! Honestly, do you have to be so bloody noble all the bloody time!?'

'Ginny! Ow! I'm sorry!'

'Oh yeah, that's all I ever hear!' she thundered at him, 'Ginny, I'm sorry to dump you, but I need to protect you from the evil wizard who's been stalking me all my life, Ginny, I'm sorry to run off into the middle of God knows where doing God knows what, but I'm off to stalk said dark wizard who's stalking me, Ginny, excuse me but I have to go and FUCKING SACRIFICE MYSELF FOR THE GOOD OF MANKIND.' You know what, Harry Potter? You need to stop being so unbelievably suicidal!'

'Ow, alright, I…. Aaahhh!' The genuine gasp of pain stopped her hitting him, and she was suddenly concerned. She hadn't been hitting him hard enough to actually hurt him. He had hissed in pain when her hand had met contact with the left side of his chest. She grabbed her wand from under the pillow where she had stored it. Harry flinched.

'Steady on, Ginny!' He said, eyeing her wand with trepidation.

'Take off your T-shirt.'

He seemed to decide that it was best not to argue with her at the moment, although he looked rather confused. He pulled off the torn, smelly, bloodstained shirt, and Ginny discarded it distastefully – throwing away a piece of the evidence of the horrors he had faced. When she looked down upon his chest, she gasped with shock. There was an immense, odious black bruise centred over his heart. It spread into ugly purple tendrils that splayed out like an ink blot.

'Harry… what is that?'

'It… it's where the killing curse hit…' he said nervously.

Damn. He had really been that close to death. The anger was gone for now though, and had been replaced with pity.

'Oh, Harry…'

She reached behind her head and pulled on a chain that was hanging around her neck. Hanging from it was a tiny drawstring bag. She opened it, and reached her hand into the impossible depths.

Harry frowned in recognition.

'That looks familiar…'

'Hermione set me up with it before she left with you and Ron. Undetectable extension charm… it's a general emergency kit… healing potions, a contact galleon, a portkey…'

'She really thinks of everything, that girl…' said Harry in admiration.

'Good thing too… I bet you two dunderheads would have ended up dead without her.' Ginny said wryly. She pulled a few bottles out of the bag.

'Yeah… we would have done.' Agreed Harry.

She looked at him. He was staring at her apologetically.

'I… I understand how you must have felt, Gin… with us all gone and stuff… must have been something like how I felt to know you were here with a load of Death Eaters… you know, I used to… um… watch your dot on the Marauder's Map… just to make sure you were alright…'

Her heart softened.

'I still can't believe _you're_ alright…' she said quietly. He was looking at her intently, his beautiful green eyes fixed on hers. 'I keep expecting to wake up and find it was all a dream.'

'Come here, Ginny.' Harry said softly, tugging her arm towards him.

'After I've sorted this mess out.' She said, indicating his chest.

'No.' Said Harry. He pulled her down so she was lying on her side next to him, 'Now.'

And before she even had time to scold him for his bossiness, or put down the bottles, he had tangled one hand in her hair, and with the other he tilted her chin upwards. Her breath hitched in anticipation. _This is it… this is the beginning, our first kiss as free people_… and slowly, as though he was savouring the moment, his lips met hers with tender assertion. Oh, it was so right. So easy and natural and perfect. Such wonderful familiar territory to be back on, it was like going home. It was all the same as she ever remembered. Tenacious, passionate, seamless. He pulled at her lips with his; soft, insistent tugs that were so… _Harry._ She pushed into him as their intensity grew, wrapping her arms around his chest and holding tight, never intending to let go.

'Aaahh!' He hissed in pain again.

'Alright,' she said, loosening her grip on him reluctantly. 'That's enough of that for now… what am I supposed to do with you in that state!?' She smirked.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

'What are you implying, Miss Weasley?'

'Only that we deserve at least a rampant, lengthy snog-athon… probably more, after what we've both been through, and what I have in mind doesn't involve you wincing every few seconds.'

Harry grinned at her.

'I think a shower would be in order too, Potter,' she said playfully, 'considering we're both covered in God knows what and absolutely reek of sweat.'

'Well… that is how I like my women.' Said Harry seriously.

She laughed – actually laughed a normal laugh. Not a strained shriek of forced laughter she had got used to, nor a hushed giggle when you had to be careful who would hear you, but a true, genuine laugh. Harry smiled at her.

'I've missed that noise.'

'Me too…' she said. 'Ok, let me look at you.'

She sat back up again, and tentatively placed a hand in the centre of the bruise – it was huge. Harry didn't react – although knowing him he was just hiding the pain.

'Looks like a few broken ribs… and I hope that's all it is… I have no idea what effect the killing curse can have when it doesn't… you know… kill you.'

'At least it didn't give me a maddeningly obvious scar this time.'

Ginny smiled. 'I dunno, the lightning bolt is pretty cool, you might have got something good.'

'Like what?' snorted Harry, 'A raincloud? A fireball? A snowflake perhaps?'

'Awwww! A snowflake! Now _that _would have been adorable…'

Harry laughed. 'Shut it, you.'

'Anyway, I think I've got some skele-gro in here…'

'Urgh.' Said Harry, making a face. 'Do I have to take that?'

'It's only a few broken bones this time – not regrowing a whole arm! It'll be a small dose and will all be done in half an hour…'

'How do you know all this about healing?' Harry said with awe.

'This year taught me a lot…' she said grimly, not wanting to tell him the amount of times she had to sort out the victims of the Carrows' torture, or indeed how many times she had had to put herself back to rights. She'd even become quite an expert in brewing healing potions.

She poured out a small measure of skele-gro into a conjured glass and handed it to Harry, who took it begrudgingly, eyeing it with distaste.

'C'mon, Potter, you've just saved the wizarding world from the most dangerous dark wizard ever known, and you're getting all hesitant about a bit of nasty medicine?'

'Alright, alright,' said Harry with a grimace, and quickly threw back the cup of potion. He shuddered. She knew how he felt – the burning sensation you got from swallowing skele-gro wasn't like firewhiskey, as she had imagined it would be the first time she had it, but more like ingesting liquid pepper.

'Ok…' she said gently, 'Guess we should just relax for half an hour or so.'

Harry looked disappointed. 'No more snogging?'

She smiled at him. 'I can manage snogging if you can.'

He smirked, and leaned up to kiss her –

'Ah!' he cried, clutching at his bruised chest, 'think it's started working…'

'Knew you couldn't…' she gloated. Harry frowned playfully.

'Tease.'

'Anyway, I want to take care of this bruise… so just lie still a minute.'

She took the other pot that she had laid aside and unscrewed the cap. Inside was a thick, blue, sweet smelling paste. She scooped out a generous measure and began to rub it very gently onto the enormous bruise. It was surprisingly effective, practically erasing the bruise on contact.

'Wow…' Harry said.

'Looks like it didn't do any lasting damage… it really was just a couple of broken ribs…' She smiled with relief. She had half expected it to leave some lingering after effect – like the way Harry's scar had always connected him to Voldemort… but he really was free now.

'So… we have just under half an hour before you can move…'

'Ow!' said Harry in confirmation. Ginny giggled, but then fell silent and chewed her lip. She knew she shouldn't ask, she should wait until he was ready to tell her, but -

'… are you gonna tell me what you were up to this year?' she blurted.

She had waited a whole year, and it had been so_ hard_ not knowing what was happening, and not understanding why he couldn't tell her. She needed answers.

Harry looked at her intently, his gaze meeting hers apologetically.

'I wanted to tell you all along, Gin… it wasn't that I didn't trust you… it's just the information would have been so dangerous… I couldn't risk it… I couldn't risk _you_.'

'I know that, Harry… but _please_… I have to know – even if only the short version for now.'

Harry took a deep breath.

'Ok, Gin… well…' he paused and looked into her eyes. 'We were looking for horcruxes…'

'Horcruxes?' She said blankly, 'What the Hell is a horcrux?'

Harry told her the whole story, what horcruxes were, how they had found them, how they had destroyed them… how he knew about her and the Sword of Gryffindor, how he had nearly been killed in Bathilda's house, how they had escaped Malfoy Manor, how they had broken into Gringotts and then Hogwarts, Snape's memories, sneaking into the forest, surrendering himself…

Ginny was trying very hard to hold back her anger. She knew it was irrational; he had had to do everything he had done – but he had nearly _died_ so many times, and she was furious with him for that. He had so nearly left her alone, and it wasn't fair.

'… and I got to him, Gin… I was… scared… but I knew what I had to do. I knew if I died for the people I wanted to save, they would be protected… like what my mother did for me. And… and I thought of you. In my last seconds, I thought of you – and that look of yours…' he was smiling at her, 'the look you're wearing right now, actually…'

Ginny was speechless. She didn't know what to think – whether to still be furious with him for being so flipping _stupid, _or to swoon into his arms and cry her heart out. He seized the advantage of her being struck dumb to deal the deathblow.

'I thought of you because… I knew if I died for _you_, they wouldn't be able to touch you… because… because I love you so much.'

Yep. He was safe now. The bastard. She couldn't help it; in spite of herself… she swooned.

She threw herself at him, pressing her body flush against him and burying her head in his neck. He hissed in pain but there was nothing she could do to retract herself from him. Ginny scrunched up her eyes, trying not to let herself cry, but it was no good. The tears were falling thick and fast; she tried to keep silent, but knew he would be able to feel the wetness on his neck and he would know that she was crying.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

'But it turned out ok, didn't it Gin? We're both here, aren't we?'

'If… if you ever nearly get yourself k…killed again, Harry Potter,' she choked out between sobs, 'I'll murder you.'

He chuckled. 'Yes boss.'

'For fuck's sake…' she mumbled thickly, 'of all the people on the planet to fall in love with, I get Harry 'I have at least three near-death experiences a year' Potter…'

'I know.' Harry said seriously, 'I'm sure Dean is still available you know…'

'Nah… he's with Lavender now…'

'Oh, shame. I thought you two made a lovely couple.'

'Really!?' said Ginny, in mock joy.

'No. I wanted to rip his balls off and choke him with them.'

She giggled, wiping her eyes and nose on his neck.

Harry snorted in disgust. 'Thanks for that, Ginny. You're such a lady.'

'Be grateful that's the worst you've got – I was pretty mad.'

'I'd never have guessed…' said Harry dryly.

They both lay their quietly for a while, holding each other tight. Harry turned to look at her, his grimy face wearing a strange expression.

'This… I've wanted this for so long… and now I can have it.'

She smiled at him, 'you could have always had it, Harry.'

'No I couldn't… there was always something else… some massive priority or responsibility, or there was the crippling guilt of putting you in harm's way…' he looked down on her in wonderment. 'Now… it's all gone… there's nothing niggling in the back of my head… my scar doesn't twinge… I can live my life now…'

He frowned, puzzled.

'Is this… is this how normal people feel?'

'You're asking the wrong person, mate.' She replied with a grin, 'ask someone who hasn't been in love with 'the boy who kept on nearly getting himself killed' for six years.'

'In love with me, eh?' Harry said, a small smile on his face.

'I've always loved you. Against my better judgement, I'm afraid.' She said grimly.

He smiled at her sarcasm, but his expression suddenly went serious.

'I love you too, Ginny. More than I've ever loved anything… or anyone…'

Her heart beat strongly in response to his words. She bit her lip…

'I think the skele-gro has done its work…' he murmured to her.

That was all the encouragement she needed. She flung herself at him with a year's worth of pent up emotion, pulling his body to hers and kissing him with absolute desperation. She needed to feel this, she was still having trouble believing this wasn't some very good dream. He kissed her back in equal measure; furious, passionate, desperate. Lips tugging, tongues bashing, teeth nipping. He rolled onto one shoulder so he was leaning over her, and he looked down on her with an expression more tender than any she had ever seen. He took a hand and stroked down her cheek, his fingers lingering to play with a lock of fiery hair.

'Do you have any idea how _beautiful_ you are, Ginny?' He said softly.

'I do… it has been said that I'm some rather hot totty, you know.'

He rolled his eyes. 'I'm going to have to do something about that smart mouth, Weasley.'

'Oh really?' she said, smirking naughtily, 'And what do you plan to do, Potter?'

Harry raised his eyebrows in a 'don't mess with me' sort of way, and leaned down to kiss her once more.

She ran her hands up his naked back, feeling the warmth of his bare skin. She moved her hands around to his chest, touching him all over, just to make sure he was truly there. He was. Tears began to leak from her eyes again. It was too much to take in… so she just lay there, kissing him, touching him, feeling his warmth, and let the feelings overtake her.

* * *

She lay naked in his arms, staring up at his gorgeous face. In this room, the rest of the world was forgotten. It was a safe haven from the grief that she knew awaited them both. Neither of them spoke about the battle, wanting to preserve the perfection for just a little longer. He was staring at her lovingly, languidly tracing shapes on her bare back, occasionally pressing kisses to her forehead. Ginny had always appreciated how gorgeous Harry was, and as he lay exposed next to her, she came to know it all the more. In fact, she didn't think he had ever looked so beautiful as he did now, even though he was so dirty that you could tell where his clothes had been from the griminess of his arms and face. His hair was a state and he was covered in cuts, bruises and dried blood. She knew she was as bad, and she was pretty sure that between the two of them they must reek to high heaven, but she didn't care. It was raw and real, and that had made their coupling even more special.

Something flickered in Harry's eyes… something sad. _No, _she implored him wordlessly, _not yet... just a bit longer, please?_

But she knew it was time… they had stolen all the moments they could for now. They couldn't hide from everything forever. The thought of what awaited them out there scared her. Harry being pounced on by everyone, her grieving family, being told who else had died…

'We have to go down, Gin…' he said firmly, but the certainty didn't reach his eyes.

'I know, Harry…' she said sadly. 'I… I'm scared…'

'Yeah…' Harry whispered. 'But I'll look after you, ok?'

She nodded. The grief was creeping up on her now.

'Besides…' Harry said to her, 'if we don't wash soon, we run the risk of becoming a health hazard…'

She giggled in spite of herself, and took a deep, steeling breath.

'Ok, 'The Boy Who Lived', 'The Chosen One', 'Grand Supreme Saviour of the Universe', or whatever they're going to be calling you now… shall we get this over and done with?'

He nodded, and reluctantly withdrew his arms from around her. He got up, and paced across the room towards Neville's bed. She admired his naked form as he went to Neville's trunk, grinning appreciatively.

'I'm sure Neville won't mind if I borrow some of his clothes…' he said, 'Mine are filthy, and Hermione has all my other stuff in her bag.'

He pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt as she watched. She continued to lie there in the bed with his now fading warmth, reluctant to move.

He stood and stared at her intently.

'What?!' she said in mock annoyance as he looked keenly at her naked body.

'Nothing…' he said, grinning broadly, 'just committing stuff to memory.'

She mock 'hmphed', and looked for a clean outfit in her little drawstring bag.

When they were both fully dressed and decent, they wandered nervously towards the entrance of the dorm. Harry looked at her, and held out his hand. She took it gratefully.

'Don't let go, ok?' he said, and she wasn't sure if he was being protective or he was asking her to protect him. Perhaps both.

'I never did.' She replied quietly. She never would either.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading! Please review ;)**


	2. Fame & Family

**Thanks for reading everyone! I've decided to turn this into a full-length fic, although I'm not sure exactly where it will go. Mainly it will be following Harry and Ginny's relationship as they try to move on after the war.**

* * *

Harry steeled himself as he stood hand in hand with Ginny before the door of the dormitory. He had a good idea of what would be awaiting him at the bottom of the stairs, and he didn't want to face it. He wanted nothing more than to stay in the dorm with Ginny, finding solace in each other and enjoying an island of calm amid this sea of chaos. However, that wasn't really an option, so he took a breath and pulled open the door.

A note had been stuck on the wood panelling of its other side. It was in neat, slanted writing that he recognised as Hermione's.

'_Do not disturb under any circumstances, unless you wish to be on the receiving end of Ginny Weasley's legendary bat bogey hex.'_

He loved that girl.

Harry started slowly down the stairs, with Ginny at his side. As they came to the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, they found the place unrecognisable. Small beds had been haphazardly arranged all around the room, occupied by sleeping people – some of whom Harry recognised as Gryffindors who had graduated recently or a few years before. He assumed all the other dorms had been filled too, and that his had been left to him and Ginny as a mark of respect. He felt a sudden rush of gratitude towards his fellow Gryffindors for such a tactful gesture.

'Harry, Ginny…' came a familiar voice. It was Mrs Weasley, who was sitting in a bed in the corner. Her face was drawn and gaunt; she looked like she had aged ten years overnight. 'Are you alright, my dears?'

Harry felt a little sheepish… he had just deflowered her daughter after all… but he supposed Mrs Weasley understood how much he and Ginny needed each other right now... and unfortunately she had bigger things to be concerned about.

'Fine, mum…' said Ginny sadly, as she went over to her to give her mother a hug. Harry had noticed a change in Ginny's whole persona as soon as they had entered the common room. He looked at her with concern; she looked heartbroken, despondent – but that fire and strength was still there. She was incorrigible, his Ginny. 'What's been going on?'

Harry was aware that his arrival seemed to have caused an unnatural stillness around the room; people who were awake had turned in their beds to look at him, and all of them seemed to have stopped what they were doing. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

'They have been evacuating the castle…' said Mrs Weasley, with a dejected tone that Harry had never heard in her voice before. It was painful to listen to. 'Trying to get everybody who's well enough to leave to go home… unfortunately, dear…' she said, turning to look at Harry with a sad smile, 'no one seems to want to leave without seeing you first…'

Harry sighed. He supposed he had just gone from famous to legendary… and he wasn't sure he was happy about it.

'You'll have to be careful, Harry…' she continued, 'it's alright in here – only well trusted Gryffindor's and their families have been allowed in, mostly to just rest until they feel able to leave… but I'm afraid the damage to Hogwarts defences in the battle has allowed just about anyone walk in through the entrance hall – and outside the portrait hole… well, dear, I think the whole staff body of every newspaper, magazine and journal in the wizarding world is waiting for you…'

'Mum…' said Ginny quietly, 'where is everyone?' and Harry knew she meant her family.

Mrs Weasley's face went taut.

'Ron is with Hermione… I believe Hermione deactivated the alarm charm on the girls' dorm.' She smiled a little at that, but then her face fell back to hopelessness again. 'Percy, Bill and Charlie are helping to get people out of the castle. Dad…. Dad is w… with George.' Her lip trembled. Harry felt grief and pity tug with alarming strength at his heart. 'Georgie is… isn't doing so well…'

Tears began to stream down her cheeks. 'I… I thought I'd better wait here to make sure you, Ron, Harry and Hermione were alright.'

Harry was touched that Mrs Weasley still cared about him so much, even in the wake of the death of one of her own sons. He felt strangely guilty for taking up some of her affection and worry when she was in so much pain.

'We're ok, mum… you needn't have worried.' said Ginny, putting an arm around her mother consolingly. Mrs Weasley sniffed.

'I know, dear, I know you will look after each other… like your father and I do… but you never stop being a mother you know… e…even when your children are grown up… even… even when they are gone…'

Mrs Weasley buried her head in her hands and began to shake with silent, body racking sobs. Ginny held her, her own tears streaming down her face. Harry looked at the ground, and tried to fight the tears that were pricking the backs of his eyes. What if he had never become close with the Weasley's; would they have been so heavily involved with the war? Would they have been in as much danger? Would Fred still be alive?

'Stop it.' Came a stern voice, breaking his reverie. It was Ginny, she was looking at him knowingly. 'Don't do that. It's not your fault, Harry.' _How does she do that?_

Harry looked around the room and realised all over again that he was still being shamelessly stared at by everyone. He recognised most people as parents of students or Hogwarts graduates, but there was no one he knew well, except –

'Hi Harry…' came a strong voice. He recognised it instantly as Neville's and he turned to the source of the noise. Neville was sat in an arm chair by one of the windows. The Sword of Gryffindor was lying on the floor by the chair.

'Neville!' he said with a grin, 'you alright?'

'Yeah, I'm fine.' He replied, his face was covered with orange paste; Harry recognised it as the burn-healing salve that Cedric had been treated with after the Triwizard Tournament dragons. 'Listen, if you need someone to… cause a diversion and help you get out… let me know.'

'Thanks.' Said Harry gratefully, 'How… how long has it been since… since everything?'

'About eight hours… all the Death Eaters have been arrested and taken to Azkaban in that time… and all those seriously injured are in St. Mungo's now… but it was weird, Harry… I don't think anyone else on our side died after you came out of the forest…'

'Yeah… I hoped that would happen…' said Harry absently; he was finding it hard to concentrate on the conversation – there was too much going on, and too much had happened! Between everything that had gone on in the battle, his reunion with Ginny, seeing Mrs Weasley in such pain, knowing he would have to face the press when he left this room… and that was before he even considered what was going on inside his head…

He really wanted to just hide somewhere for weeks on end and process all this… only seeing a special few; mainly Ginny, Ron and Hermione. But the reality that this wasn't really going to be possible was hitting him now; and he suddenly felt exhausted all over again. He could get out of the castle without the press knowing if he wanted to; he could apparate out with Kreacher, or sneak away under the cloak, but what good would it do? They would find him eventually. It was such a stupid problem to have to deal with when so many other big things were going on; he wanted to help Ginny, Ron and the other Weasley's through this time, he wanted to be able to grieve for Fred and Remus and Tonks, and the others he had lost, he wanted to settle down and live the life he had always wanted, with Ginny at his side; and instead he had to think about ridiculous things like how to deal with the paparazzi.

He looked at Ginny and Mrs Weasley again, and felt his heart breaking. Mrs Weasley was the closest thing to a mother he had ever truly known, and he loved her; it killed him to see her in pain. And Ginny… to see Ginny crying like that was alien to him… she was so strong; stronger than he was in a lot of ways – but even she couldn't block out this feeling. Although Ginny loved all of her brothers, he knew she had had a particularly good relationship with the twins. This was awful.

'Harry…' said a soft voice behind him, and before he had even had time to turn fully around, Hermione had flung herself into his arms. He could see Ron standing behind her having just emerged from the bottom of the spiral staircase to the dorms.

'Hey, Hermione.' He said with a sad smile, 'You two ok?'

Ron gave a sort of half shrug; which Harry thought probably expressed everything perfectly. Hermione returned to Ron's side, and clasped his hand securely. They too were as filthy and exhausted looking as he was. He couldn't remember the last time any of them had properly slept, washed or eaten.

'We will be, Harry…' said Hermione reassuringly, and he knew she was including he, Harry, in that 'we'.

'What should I do?' He asked them tiredly.

Hermione smiled at him sympathetically. 'Best give them something, Harry.' He knew she was talking about the press, 'It doesn't have to be much… We will come with you.'

'Yeah I suppose…' he said with resignation.

'I'm coming too, Harry.' Came Ginny's voice, thick with tears, but also full of defiance.

He looked at her. She and her mother were still holding each other on the edge of the bed; Ginny's face was red and swollen, her tears cutting through the dirt on her face… that overwhelming protective instinct overtook him again and he wanted to get her away from here, but he knew she wouldn't take kindly to that.

'Ginny… you don't have to…'

'I know I don't have to, you prat! Don't even think about going all noble on me again…'

Ron was grinning, 'She knows you too well, mate.'

Ron went to join his mother and sister, putting his arms around Mrs Weasley from her other side.

'When do you want to do it?'

'Best get it over and done with as soon as possible I suppose… then we can go to Grim…'

'Shhh!' Hermione hushed him, looking around the room. Harry had forgotten that everyone was listening to him intently. 'We don't want that getting out to the press! Besides, the ministry under Voldemort knew we were based there, so it won't be long before that becomes mainstream knowledge…'

'Ok, well… we'll find somewhere…'

'Don't you at least want to wash first?' Came Neville's voice, he had a strange half smile on his face, 'Before you go and get your photo taken a million times?'

'No. I have a feeling I'm going to feel dirty after this anyway… plus won't they want some nice pictures of the battle-worn, rugged hero?' he said satirically; he really had no patience for this.

'Don't forget his grubby sidekicks.' Chimed in Ron. Harry flashed him an amused look, and for the first time really looked at Ron. His eyes were red and puffy. He looked like he'd been crying for hours. As Ron turned back to his mum and sister, Harry subtly looked towards Hermione and raised his eyebrows, silently asking her if Ron was ok. Hermione shook her head sadly; she seemed oddly composed, and Harry knew she was staying strong for Ron.

'You can go to the burrow…' Came Mrs Weasley's hoarse voice. 'The press will probably try to get there, but all the wards are still up and it's well protected…'

'Mrs Weasley, I don't want to cause you any trouble… especially at the moment…' Harry said; he couldn't in good conscience accept her generous offer and turn the house into a base for press conferences while they were in mourning.

'Nonsense, dear. I won't hear about you going anywhere else.' That bossy, motherly tone was back in her voice, and Harry almost smiled. 'You four can all go there when you are done with those vultures out there, and Arthur, the boys and I will meet you when we are ready.'

'I don't think it will make a difference if you go there now, anyway.' Ginny said to him. 'The press will want to speak to mum about Bellatrix, and the rest of us about… about Fred… and about being loyal Potter supporters for the duration of the war. We're all going to be semi-famous now, I hope you know, so we'll have journalists at our house either way.'

There was silence as everyone absorbed her words. She was right, of course; everyone in this little group had played a big part in the battle, and the media would take whatever they could get from any of them.

'How are we going to get home?' Said Ron in puzzlement. 'You can't apparate in and out of Hogwarts, remember?'

Hermione was grinning next to him. 'Took you seven years to remember that…' she said, rolling her eyes lovingly.

'Kreacher?' called Harry, and there was a loud crack. Kreacher appeared before them, looking a little bruised and bloody, but otherwise not badly harmed from the battle.

'Master,' he croaked, 'Kreacher is glad to see you are ok.'

'I'm glad you're alright too, Kreacher, thanks for everything you did in the battle… I have one more thing to ask you…'

'Anything, Master.'

'When I call you next, I want you to come and take us; me, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, to the Burrow - can you do that?'

'Of course, Master.' Kreacher bowed and disapparated again. The situation reminded him of Dobby saving them in Malfoy Mansion. He felt a pang as he thought of the elf. It seemed everywhere his thoughts turned they hit a reminder of another friend he had lost.

'Ok…' sighed Hermione, 'Shall we go out there now?'

'I suppose…' said Harry with resignation, 'I apologise in advance for whatever might be about to happen…'

Ginny and Ron stood up from the bed. Mrs Weasley had composed herself and gave them both tight hugs. She then stepped over to Harry and pulled him into a motherly embrace.

'Good luck, Harry dear, I will see you back home…' she looked at him and smiled, 'your parents would be so proud of you, you know… I know I am.'

Ginny joined him and took hold of his hand. Her face was still wet with tears, but her jaw was set with determination.

'Come on then, 'Chosen one'.' She said with a little smirk. He sighed with exasperation.

He and Ginny wandered towards the portrait hole, with Ron and Hermione behind them. Harry took a deep breath and pushed the back of the portrait.

As he entered the corridor, there was a moment of stunned silence when he got to take in the surroundings. There was a massive crowd there, at the front were people with cameras and parchment and quills, obviously the press – but behind them there was a hoard of normal looking witches and wizards, craning their necks towards the portrait hole, obviously waiting for a glimpse of him.

He had a second or two to absorb all this, before the barrage of noise hit. People were screaming his name, cameras flashed over and over again, making bright spots blur his vision. The crowd surged forward and people tried to grab at him…

'_Protego_!' screamed Ginny and Hermione in unison, and the crowd was pushed back a couple of metres on all sides.

People were yelling his name over and over again. He couldn't hear anything of sense amidst the cacophony. It was absolute pandemonium, and he really had to fight against the tired and disgruntled part of his brain that wanted to call Kreacher right then.

Harry held up his hand, and amazingly everyone fell silent. He never would have dreamed that he would acquire that much respect from people, especially considering his rocky history with the media. Every single journalist had their hands in the air. Harry pointed at one, and four in the nearby vicinity asked questions at the same time.

'Harry Potter, how does it feel to have single-handedly won the war?'

'What are your plans now You-Know-Who is gone?'

'Did you know he wouldn't be able to kill you?'

'Where have you been all this year?'

'Mr Potter, Mr Potter!'

Harry held up his hand again, and tried to answer the questions he had identified. Cameras were still flashing at an alarming rate, and it was making it hard to concentrate. Ginny squeezed his hand, and for some reason that calmed him.

'I didn't single-handedly win the war by any means. People have been fighting all year; if the Battle of Hogwarts hadn't happened, Voldemort would still be alive. Everyone who fought played a part in his death… I just had to be the one to finish it.' He took a breath to steady himself… he wasn't nervous, just tired and overwhelmed.

'I don't know what my plans are now he's gone… try and lead a quiet life, I suppose – I wonder what that's like...' A few people in the crowd laughed.

'I can't say where we have been all year, Ron, Hermione and I were making sure that when someone got to Voldemort, he would be able to be defeated… and I didn't know he wouldn't be able to kill me… I thoroughly expected to die.'

Ginny was clasping his hand uncomfortably tightly. People were taking notes furiously. A man in an expensive looking suit yelled, 'Why didn't you die?'

Harry decided to answer with the half-truth. He didn't want to explain Horcruxes, or how the killing curse had partially worked by killing the fragment of Voldemort's soul that had dwelled within him. 'The same reason I didn't die last time… people had died to protect me in the battle of Hogwarts, their sacrifice is what truly meant Voldemort died… it is what Dumbledore had predicted all along; the capacity to love as selflessly as that is more powerful than any curse in the world.'

A hush fell on the crowd at that point, and for a second it seemed like nobody moved or breathed… and then the racket broke out again. It was deafening, he could barely hear a thing.

'QUIET!' Screamed Ginny next to him, and he didn't know whether it was the power in her voice, or the irritated look on her face, but people shut up. Thank Merlin she was by his side.

A witch at the front dressed all in pink timidly raised her hand.

'Yes?' Harry said, trying desperately to keep the apathy out of his voice.

'Hello, Mr Potter, I'm Nancy Dibble from _Witch Weekly_… is this your girlfriend?' she said, indicating Ginny.

'Obviously.' Said Ginny impatiently. Harry looked at her and tried to suppress a smile. She was looking at the woman with incredulity, as if failing to understand how someone could care about something as mundane as his relationship status when a war had just been won.

'Are you in love?'

'I'm not answering personal questions, thanks…' said Harry coolly.

He heard a giggle and turned to see Ron and Hermione sniggering behind them.

'Artie Michum, _Wiley Witches_ Magazine,' said a sleazy looking man with well-oiled hair in the second row of paparazzi. 'Would either of you two…' he was looking at Hermione and Ginny with a half-smile, 'consider doing a photoshoot for our next issue, 'Babes of the Battle'?'

'Oi!' Snarled Ron, stepping protectively in front of the girls and grabbing his wand, 'they deserve your respect, you slimy git…'

'Alright!' interjected Harry, looking angrily at the man, 'I think that's enough… Kreacher!'

There was a loud crack, and the wizened elf appeared before them. Kreacher took hold of Harry and Hermione's hands, and Harry clasped onto Ginny's hand tighter as he felt that familiar feeling of being squeezed through a tight tube. People had started yelling and attempting to break the shield charm to stop him leaving… and then the din and flashes of cameras were gone, and he landed in the warm, comforting kitchen of the burrow, with Ginny, Ron and Hermione at his side.

'That creepy sod…' Said Ron with fury, '_Wiley Witches…_ should have cursed him into oblivion…' he trailed off, grumbling angrily.

Harry and Ginny caught each other's eyes and looked away quickly to try and avoid laughing… of course, the whole thing was rather insulting – but again, Harry couldn't believe that some people had their priorities so wrong – it was almost comical. The wizarding world was free again, and apparently major topics of public interest were Harry Potter's love life and what his girlfriend looked like in her underwear… celebrity was weird.

'Come on, Ron… I think you need some sleep… or maybe some food.' Said Hermione pacifyingly, 'would you like something to eat?'

'No…' Muttered Ron as he plonked himself down at the kitchen table with anger.

Harry's brow furrowed with concern; if Ron wasn't eating, it meant he really wasn't ok. Hermione caught Harry's eye and mumbled to him quietly, 'Go and get cleaned up and rest some more… I'll look after him.'

Harry nodded; he knew time with Hermione is probably what Ron wanted and needed most at the moment; at least until the rest of the Weasley's returned. He knew he felt that way about Ginny anyway, so he took her by the hand and led her out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Ginny plonked herself down on the sofa with a sigh.

'I feel disgusting…' she moaned, 'and everything aches… everything…' She finished in a whisper, and he knew she wasn't just talking about sore muscles and bruises.

'Sounds like you need a long hot bath…' Said Harry.

'Yeah… maybe that would make me feel better.' Ginny replied despondently.

Harry couldn't help but agree, and he began daydreaming of the Prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts… the massive bathtub in the beautiful room, with more varieties of soap than he would ever have need for… and plenty of space for he and Ginny to relax and enjoy some time together…

But then… why should it remain a daydream? He had just proven that he could get in and out of Hogwarts easily with Kreacher's help… they could go back to Hogwarts and wash there just as easily as washing here. The Prefect's bathroom was on the seventh floor, far away from where the fighting had been, and there was no reason why any press or other people would be there. He could get Kreacher to check if the coast was clear and to prevent anyone from coming in…

He joined Ginny on the sofa; Kreacher had followed them into the living room.

'Is there anything else Kreacher can do for you, Master?'

'Yes, actually…' Said Harry, and he relayed his plan to Kreacher.

'If there's no one about, come and get us and take us there; then make sure no one else can get in while we are in there…'

'Yes, Master.' Said the elf, 'Kreacher is happy to help you in your time of need.'

'Thank you, Kreacher,' said Harry gratefully, 'You have no idea how much this means to us.' The elf disapparated.

Ginny was looking a little bemused. 'The Prefect's bathroom?' she said, raising an eyebrow.

'You'll understand when we get there… I'll just go tell Hermione where we are going…'

'Are you joking?!' Hissed Ginny, 'my highly over-protective brother finding out that I'm about to go and take a bath with his best friend?'

'I'll just tell Hermione…' said Harry, 'plus I think Ron is kind of distracted at the moment…' he added sadly.

'Well… Alright…' Said Ginny doubtfully.

Harry paced through to the kitchen, and found Hermione with her arm around a snoring Ron.

'Dreamless sleep potion…' she said, indicating a half full cup of tea, 'He hasn't slept since the end of the battle yet… ' She looked a little guilty, 'I had to.'

Harry nodded with understanding, looking sympathetically at his best friend.

'Listen Hermione… Ginny and I are going… somewhere a little more private…' he tried hard not to blush, but Hermione barely batted an eyelid. 'We might be a little while.'

'Ok Harry, don't be too long – if you two aren't here when the Weasley's get back, they'll worry.'

'I know.' He replied, 'Thanks.'

'Ginny has a contact galleon, tell her to keep it close by it in case I need to get hold of you.'

'Alright…'

He went back to the living room to find Ginny and Kreacher waiting for him.

'There is no one around, Master, no one at all…' said the elf.

'Good,' Said Harry, 'here we go…'

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it, a review would be really appreciated ;)**


	3. Grief

They landed with a light thud on the marbled ground of Hogwarts seventh floor. Harry looked around nervously, but Kreacher had been right; there was no one here.

Harry suddenly started to feel anxious; he had identified this as a good idea in his head, but he hadn't quite considered all it implied. He had just thought it would be nice to _finally_ get cleaned up and spend some more time with Ginny… but this was incredibly intimate. He hoped he hadn't been too presumptuous.

He and Ginny had always been very comfortable with each other, unlike his best friends Ron and Hermione, whose awkwardness had been a massive obstacle to overcome. When Harry and Ginny had got together in his sixth year, it was almost _too _comfortable – and they had had to really try to not get carried too away. Those stolen hours during summer days in the Hogwarts grounds had often got rather hot and heavy, and neither of them had been embarrassed by their inexperience or the occasional awkward faux pas, in fact they had giggled about them. That was one of the things he had loved about spending time with Ginny; along with getting pleasantly hot and bothered, they had _laughed._ They had laughed together more than they did anything else. He remembered one time when they had been snogging behind a tree, Ginny's shirt was unbuttoned and crumpled and they were both flushed and sweaty. At a moment of particularly intense kissing, Ginny had stopped and whispered 'Shhh!', looking anxiously over Harry's shoulder.

She had heard Ron and Lavender approaching…. They both froze behind the tree, and Ginny had pressed herself tightly into him to try to avoid being seen. This hadn't helped the compromising position they were already in.

'I thought we had something, Wonwon!' Lavender was squeaking, 'why do you have to be friends with _her!_ We could get back together if you'd stop being her friend…'

'Erm… I don't think so… erm…'

They were getting closer…

'Quick!' hissed Ginny, 'Up the tree!'

'_What!?' _He'd whispered back incredulously.

'Do you want my brother to find us like… like this?!' She said, indicating their dishevelled state. He really did not, so had climbed the tree quickly, pulling her up behind him.

'You can't _really_ like her, Wonwon… she's so swotty… and her hair's always a mess!'

They were dangerously close now, right under the tree. Harry could see Ron's red, baffled looking face as he tried to shake her off.

'Look, I'm sorry Lavender…' he said, she was getting dangerously close to him and he was backing away, 'I just… don't see… erm… you and me… erm, well, I'm like really busy at the moment…'

Harry and Ginny looked at each other and tried extremely hard to stifle their giggles as Lavender backed him into the trunk of the tree they were hiding in.

'Don't you remember what we had, Wonny?' She said to him in a hushed tone, moving in alarmingly close to Ron.

'Snogging?' said Ron, as if answering a question in class.

Ginny was shaking with suppressed laughter now.

'And how we felt! I _understand_ you, sweetie…' she was pressed against Ron, who looked extremely uncomfortable, 'shall I remind you?'

_Please don't,_ Harry was screaming in his head; Ginny mimed vomiting and he had to bite his lip to stop the laughter escaping.

'Er… no thanks… and I don't think you do understand me… 'cos I clearly don't fancy you…'

Harry and Ginny had looked at each other with joyful incredulity, and Ron had pushed Lavender off himself and strode away.

'Wonwon?' said Lavender with confusion, 'Wonwon!'

She ran after him, and once they were a safe distance away, he and Ginny had burst out into peels of hysterical laughter. They had almost fallen out of the tree. They had laughed until they struggled for breath, and then laughed some more, and once they had stopped laughing, they had resumed kissing in the late evening sun.

They had never actually 'done the deed' back then; neither of them were ready, and he had also known all along he would have to end their relationship. He didn't want to take something from her without being sure he could follow it through with everything else she deserved.

But… they had done it earlier today…

He didn't regret it in the slightest, and he knew she hadn't either. In fact, he was pretty sure they would have slept together on his Birthday last year if Ron hadn't interrupted them… the way she had kissed him that day had been… different somehow. She had said she wanted to give him something to remember her by… well, that would have definitely done the trick – not that he could have ever forgotten her.

Last night had been perfect. It was something they had both needed, and it had been desperate and intense, full of frantic grasps and tight clutches and hungry stares. They had both needed to be reminded that they were alive, and they had survived… together.

'Harry?' Said Ginny, breaking into his thoughts, 'Are we just gonna stand here?'

She was looking at him with confusion, but she didn't seem to be overthinking this like he was.

'Erm… yeah. Kreacher, can you let us in there please? Do you have the password?'

Kreacher bowed low and simply moved forward and opened the door.

'Hogwarts elves don't need passwords, Master.' He said, and indicated that they go inside. They did so, and Kreacher shut the door behind them, leaving them alone once more.

The room was just how he remembered it; large, ornate, with the deep sunken tub in the centre. He took his wand out of his pocket, pointed towards the many taps and said _'instigato.' _All of them turned on and began to fill the tub with water and sweet smelling bubbles. He could see a pile of white fluffy towels and flannels at one of the corners of the bath.

He turned to look at Ginny. She was already looking at him. Harry swallowed. He wasn't quite used to this aspect of their relationship yet – but Ginny didn't seem to have a problem. She took off her top and threw it aside. Harry could feel himself flushing as she stood there in her bra, undoing the zipper of her jeans. And then she was in her underwear. Despite all the grime that had covered her during the battle, her red eyes and all the cuts and bruises, Harry still thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She paced over to him slowly, and for some reason he found he couldn't move.

Ginny reached him and slipped her hands under his T-shirt. She tugged it upwards and he lifted his arms to help her, and she threw his t-shirt down with her own clothes, and pressed herself into his naked torso. He loved the feel of the warmth of her, and how soft her skin felt against his.

'Make me feel better, Harry…' she said softly, her face buried in his chest.

He pressed a kiss into her hair.

'_Finite incantatem.' _He said quietly, and the taps turned off. The bath was already full. 'Come on, Gin.'

They both stripped off the remainder of their clothes and walked to the bath. He didn't think now was the time for more fun; they both needed some looking after, and it was nice to be with each other, both laid bare in more ways than one, trying to disinfect some of the wounds the war had left on them both.

He sank in to the hot water, and gently pulled Ginny down next to him. Something seemed to have snapped in Ginny. She was staring straight ahead with a dead, dull gaze. He didn't know what to say to her, so he didn't say anything. Instead, he took one of the flannels that was lying nearby and wetted it in the warm, aromatic water. Then, ever so gently, he began to rub away some of the dirt, starting with her face.

She closed her eyes as he stroked away the dirt from her forehead and cheeks. It was stubborn dirt, a horrible mixture of mud, dust, soot, blood and tears. He uncovered a black eye and a long cut just along her hairline. Harry kept on softly working at the muck with the flannel, which was now grey. Ginny kept her eyes shut, breathing deep, relaxed breaths.

'You couldn't have just stayed out of the fighting, could you?' Harry murmured to her, as he began rubbing her neck, uncovering a large burn that had been previously hidden by her hair.

'No more than you could.' She said to him, 'How could I have lived with myself knowing my family and you and everyone else were fighting, and I was hiding away like a little child? I'm just as capable as you.'

'I know that, Ginny,' Said Harry, gently rubbing under her chin, where there was a small graze. 'I just didn't want you to get hurt.'

'I didn't want you to get hurt either, but I had to accept that you might… and probably would… imagine how that felt…'

Harry thought about this… he knew why Ginny had been angry with him after the battle of course, but he had never truly considered how much Ginny must have gone through because of her feelings for him. He wasn't exactly Mr 'Play-it-safe',

He rinsed out the filthy flannel in the water, 'Hopefully you won't have to put up with much of that anymore…'

She went quiet again… he was worried by that. He resumed washing her, moving the flannel over her shoulders and collarbone. Her body was mostly submerged in the water, something which he was both glad of and frustrated by. He didn't think he would ever get enough of looking at Ginny naked and knowing she was _his_, but right now it was probably a good thing he couldn't see her beautiful body… it would make it harder to concentrate on just looking after her.

He moved behind her in the hot water, and began to rub slow circles on her upper back. She sighed and leaned back into him… he swallowed as he felt her naked body flush against him, and he moved his free arm to wrap around her waist, resting his hand on the slight mound of her bare stomach. Her hair was tickling his face, and although right now it smelt more of smoke than anything, he could still catch a wisp of that flowery smell he loved so much.

Harry began slowly running the flannel up and down her filthy arms, exposing yet more cuts, burns and bruises; some quite bad. It looked like she really had fought hard.

She turned her head to the side to look at him, her eyes boring into his. He couldn't help it; he kissed her.

Kissing Ginny was something he decided right then and there that he would never get tired of. Especially now he knew he could spend the rest of his life doing it. She turned around in his arms so they were face to face. Harry flushed and she gave him a small smile.

'Honestly, Harry, you're acting like an awkward teenager…'

'I am a teenager…'

She smiled wider, 'I would think the person who defeated Voldemort wouldn't blush when he saw a girl naked…'

'Cheeky,' he said, giving her side a squeeze, 'You should take it as a compliment. It's not my fault you're as hot as hellfire.'

She chuckled, and he continued to massage her with the flannel on her back. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as he rubbed her upper back. Harry gulped. He could feel all of her against him, she was pressed so close…

'You've stopped rubbing…' said Ginny quietly.

'Erm…' replied Harry, having no idea how to respond to that. His body didn't seem to be obeying him anymore, and his brain had gone alarmingly fuzzy for some reason.

'Does this mean it's your turn?' She said, taking the flannel from him.

'Erm…'

She wrung out the flannel and began to scrub at the dirt on his arms, repeating the process he had just done on her. Harry suddenly couldn't think of anything to say… the whole thing was so overwhelming, the feeling of her against him in the hot water, the vulnerability they were both showing, the sensation of her wiping away the build-up of dirt he had accumulated in the battle… so he just let her continue, holding her close.

She moved onto his face, looking into his eyes and reaching up slightly to get to his forehead. Ginny washed with tender insistence, stopping over his scar, and tracing it lightly with her finger.

'This fucking thing has caused so much trouble…' she said.

'You're telling me?' Said Harry sarcastically.

She grinned at him, '… so why do I find it so hot?'

Harry flushed again; for God's sake, he was going red more often than Ginny -a Weasley.

Ginny looped her arms around his neck and kissed him thoroughly. If he had thought she had been pressed close before, it was nothing to how she was now. He closed her eyes and kissed her back, feeling it all, her hot mouth, her hands in his hair, her breasts pushed against his chest…

She broke away from him, blushing a little and smirking.

'Enjoying yourself, Harry?'

He didn't have to reply for her to know the answer to that…

Ginny began kissing him again, resting her hands on his hips… and all plans to avoid doing anything naughty in the bath went out of the window…

* * *

He sat on the surrounding shallow shelf of the large bathtub with Ginny between his legs, holding her close and basking in the afterglow of being with her again. They were both finally completely clean too, all injuries washed and exposed. Ginny had gone very still in his arms; she had been like this for a few minutes, and Harry was slightly concerned. He didn't push her though; he knew she would tell him what was wrong when she was ready.

They sat like that for a little while longer, until he really thought they should probably head back. They had been gone for about an hour, and he didn't know when the rest of the Weasley's would be getting back to the house.

'Ginny, we…'

'I don't feel better…' Came Ginny's small and confused voice.

'What?' Harry responded quietly.

'I don't feel better… I'm with you, and I'm cleaned up, and all of my cuts and stuff have been washed… but… it's still there.'

'What's still there?' He murmured to her, wrapping his arms around her tighter.

'The… the emptiness… it's like a massive hole… but somehow it _hurts_… it _really really hurts_.'

Harry didn't know what to say, so he just held her and let her talk.

'Fred's dead, isn't he?' she said hollowly.

'… Yes.' He answered reluctantly.

'I'll never talk to him again… or hear him laugh… or mock Ron with him and George…'

Harry was silent. He didn't want to answer that.

'I won't, will I, Harry?' Said Ginny quietly. 'Say it.'

'No, you won't.'

Ginny broke in his arms. Full on shattered into a million pieces, and he couldn't put her back together. She was crying; but somehow the word 'crying' didn't cover it. It was like listening to a mortally injured animal that you could do nothing to help. Her sobs were desperate, heart wrenching gasps… and he knew he couldn't stop it. Her body was shaking against him, racked with agony. She turned around and flung her arms around him. He held her close as her sobs got louder and louder, as the waves of reality continued to hit like tsunamis. Tears began to leak down his face, for Fred, for Ginny, for all the Weasley's.

'W.. When does it stop, Harry?' She choked out in a pleading voice, 'When does it go away?'

Harry closed his eyes in a pained way and held her tighter as he answered.

'I… I don't think it ever does, Gin…' She choked on a new wave of tears, 'but it gets better over time… the void gets smaller… but… but it doesn't ever truly go away.'

'I've never… I've never felt…' she tried to say.

'Shhh…' he said, softly stroking her wet hair. 'You don't have to say anything.'

So she didn't. She cried and cried, and he sat there, with her head on his shoulder and his arms around her, until she literally couldn't cry anymore. At that point, he picked her up, like you would a child, and ungainly clambered out of the bath. Harry dried them both with his wand, and helped Ginny dress. She was quiet now, her eyes glazed and dull, her face heart broken. It was painful to watch. She sat there on the floor, her eyes facing forwards and focussed on nothing, trapped in her own world of horrible reality.

'Ginny…' he said quietly. Her dispirited eyes flicked towards him, and he hated seeing what he saw there – the mischief and determination they usually reflected was gone. 'We have to go back…'

She nodded in response, but didn't move from where she was sitting, so he went to her and picked her up again. She wrapped her arms around him and clung tight, as if he was the only thing keeping her sane. Harry walked towards the door of the bathroom and opened it slowly. Kreacher was dutifully sitting there waiting for them.

'Master…' he said to Harry, bowing low.

'Hello, Kreacher… could you take us back to the Burrow please? And then I want you to come back here to Hogwarts and rest…'

'Yes, Master.' He said. Harry's hands were both occupied holding Ginny, so Kreacher took hold of the crook of his elbow (which he could only just reach), and apparated back to the Weasley's home.

They arrived in the kitchen to find it empty. Kreacher bowed low to them both and apparated away again with a loud crack. Harry looked down at Ginny in his arms. She was despondent, her red eyes staring blankly into nothingness. He felt his heart break as he looked at her. He had never wanted her to get hurt, yet she was experiencing the worst pain in the world, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Harry carried Ginny through to the living room, where he found Hermione sat on a sofa, with Ron's sleeping head in her lap. She looked up when he staggered in, her eyes full of understanding pity. Harry went over to the other sofa, and sat down. Ginny curled into him a little more as they became stationary, and started to quietly cry again. He felt so helpless as he sat there, consolingly stroking her hair. All he could do was let her ride it out. He looked to Hermione for some solidarity, and saw her eyes filled with unshed tears as they met his.

Now, they had to wait for the rest of the Weasley's to return, none of whom had yet, and Harry knew it was going to get a hell of a lot worse. He was dreading seeing George… whose agony must be unbearable… and the fact he was identical to Fred was going to be very hard for everyone to deal with… not least George himself. He held Ginny a little tighter, wishing there was something he could do to help.

But… all he could do now was sit here with Ginny, and let her try and process the black chasm of separation that is grief.

* * *

**Hey everyone, hope this chapter has been ok... Grief is a hard one to describe... and I'm not sure I've done it justice, but I tried my best. Thanks for reading, please review :)**


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